


Cats and Raccoons

by GwendolynGrace



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: F/M, Yuletide 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-24
Updated: 2008-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1623752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGrace/pseuds/GwendolynGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Axe explains a little about the complexity of Michael and Fiona's relationship. (Set sometime in Season One.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cats and Raccoons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lexie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexie/gifts).



> I'm really, really sorry about the lame-itude of this little character study. I can only say that I didn't have time to do it justice, but I wanted you to have *something* at Yuletide. That and I only had access to Season One at the time of writing this. Please let me write you a New Year's Resolution fic to make up for it. Turns out Burn Notice is really hard to write well!
> 
> Written for Lexie

 

 

You people, I keep telling you, you're barking up the wrong tree with Westen. And Fiona? Well, apart from being seriously, seriously hot, for a skinny chick, well...I gotta admit, I figured she was bad news, but she's been pretty good kid, at least as far as Michael's concerned. I mean, not that I wouldn't like to see her deported, but....

Okay, you wanna know how it really went down between them? Shit, _I_ don't even know all the details. But here's what I _do_ know....

I was in Kerry working a freelance protection detail - not that we were all that worried over in the states, but back then it was even odds that VIPs visiting the Emerald Isle might get caught up in the works, y'know? Collateral damage? Anyway, Michael was there, too, posing as a - well, you don't need to know that. Anyway, Michael and I were kickin' back, hoisting a couple pints in a pub, and in walks Fiona.

She was with a whole bunch of her IRA buddies. I don't know whether they were on their way to a bank robbery or from it, but the moment they walked in, it raised Mike's hackles. He straightened up in his seat, looked like a pointer that had just caught a really, really fresh scent. Before I knew it, I was nursing my Harp by myself and he was working his way to the bar right next to the sexy colleen. Man, it is a pleasure to watch him work. Made me wish she had a friend.

Natch, it was too good to be true; Michael had been sent there to infiltrate the cell and make contact with a gun-runner whom they suspected had done business with Al Qaeda. But meanwhile, he certainly had what looked like a fabulous time.

Yeah, Fiona liked him, you could tell that right away. But she was gonna make him work for it all the same. Then there's that ... violence thing. Took a little time, but eventually she provoked him into a fight. And oh, man, did that heat it up.

Ya gotta understand Mike, and his hot buttons. His dad was, from everything I understand about it, a class-A jerk. So one thing guaranteed Michael _never_ wanted to do, is become the guy who hit girls. Fiona was attracted to all that animal rage inside the guy, but he kept it so darn suppressed it was more like a time bomb than a smoldering coal, y'know?

Fiona wanted him to blow bigger than Vesuvius and Mike? Well, Mike felt like he had to keep a clamp down tight on his anger. So naturally, they made love the way a cat and a raccoon would.

I remember the day after Mike came back from his first official date with Fi. Boy had bruises all down his thigh. I asked him what went wrong and man, did he ever try to tell me a yarn. Mike never could lie to anyone he cared about. One of his only flaws as an operative. Anyway, he starts telling me about a pub fight. "Bullshit," I said. "I know every pub in this stupid Mick town, and hell, I was in half of 'em last night, and you were not in any bar fight. Try again."

"Okay," he admitted, head bopping around like one a them bobble dolls. "It wasn't a fight. Well, it was, but not like you think. Remember that Irish girl a couple days ago?"

"Mike, we're in Kerry," I reminded him. "They're all Irish girls."

"Right. Yeah. Well, turns out she's a little crazy."

I smirked and ordered another round for us both. "Good crazy or bad crazy?"

"Both, I think. I dunno. She's ... well, she's dangerous. But she's also intriguing. She could be a valuable asset."

"To what?"

"She's right at the center of this cell, I think," Michael said. "I gotta slow down."

"Man, you are losing me. Either you need another beer or I do. You do need to slow down," I continued, demonstrating by separating my words, "and explain from the beginning. And remember, we're in public."

"Yeah. Okay, well we got to talking that first night, but nothing too deep. She was sounding me out, too, I could tell. And that's fine - the name of the game. But there's also something different about this girl, Sam."

"Different how?" I asked. It was really not like Mike to fall head over heels; the kid was starting to worry me.

"Well," he said, feeling his way, "most people who join the IRA - or any radical activist organization - they do it for one of two reasons: love of the cause, or sociopathic tendencies. Got a feeling she's number two."

I tried to point out that it's a bad idea to sleep with anyone crazier than you, especially in Mike's line of work, but I guess I was too late. Before I knew it, Michael was on the inside, they'd gone to Dublin, and he and Fi were together. What could I do? I had to ship out, my detail was heading back stateside, and I couldn't have changed anything, anyway. No man wants to hear the girl he's dating is bad news, especially when he's already pointed it out to himself.

I caught up with him again a few years later. He'd been in Germany, he told me, and I wish I'd known cause I could have helped the kid out. But he was a mess.

"Had to skip out," he said between shots of something that might have been vodka. Might have been a lot of things. "Had to leave. Couldn't tell anyone - 'specially not Fi. This job sucks."

It was about as low as I'd ever seen Mike. I poured the drinks and he poured out his story. Turns out when his op in Ireland had finished, Fiona followed him to Germany. He'd tried to break it off, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. Sounded like he didn't really want her to, if truth be told. She made up a cover and showed up in Germany a few days after he got himself established. Demanded the truth - asked him if he'd been spying on her IRA buddies the whole time.

Mike lied. Tried to, anyway - did I mention that he sucks at lying to anyone he cares about?

Didn't fool her. And she was pissed. What is it about a woman, incidentally, that she still gets pissed even when she knows what the answer's gonna be before she asks the question? I mean, I had this girlfriend once.... Sorry. I'm digressing.

My point is, that's when Fiona learned the truth. She couldn't go back to the IRA, thanks to Michael. Anyway, the IRA was just about used up, what with the treaty finally going through. Still, here's her life turning out to be a closed door, guess I can't blame her for being pissed. Trying to convince Michael that meant they had to stay together? Well, he wasn't wrong when he'd said she was crazy.

Anyway, she got over it, I guess. They settled in in Germany, and I guess Mike came to think of her as somewhere between a resource or accessory and a real partner. Explanation-wise, the night he told me all this, he was getting harder to understand, but I gathered they were pretty close.

Unfortunately, as lonely as the spy gig gets, there's a reason it's a solo kind of life. Eventually Fi became a liability as well as an unofficial member of the CIA payroll. Now, don't get the wrong idea. Mike would never bring her in on eyes-only stuff, and he never would have left classified info around where she could see it. She wasn't a security risk, not like that. I get the impression the folks he was working with figured out she was important to him.

So he lived up to his profession's nickname: he spooked. He packed up shop, prepared his exit, invited Fiona over for dinner, enjoyed one last goodbye screw...and just never got around to telling her he was running away. Well, again, can't blame him. If he'd told her, she'd have followed again and then they both would have been exposed.

Now, I'm not saying Fiona was good for him - hell, anyone that whacko should be kept on a leash and a steady supply of thorazine - but to see Mike that messed up? That was rough. Still, he's a tough cookie. He got over it.

Until now. Until Miami and this damn burn notice. Man, I dunno who burned him, and I don't know how much longer it's gonna take to find out, but I sure as hell know that someone as careful as Mike wouldn't still have Fi's number in his wallet if she weren't damn important to him. I can't think of any other reason - unless someone just wanted to keep him way, way off-balance. Actually, that's not such a bad explanation.

But honestly, since he's been back, there's no denying she's been at his side every step of the way. I may think she's a weapon-happy, crazy bitch with a serious adrenaline addiction, but what the hell? I figure, when Mike does figure out why he got burned, he'll need her kind of firepower.

And I'm looking forward to that day, brother. After that, we'll see. Maybe those kids can work things out after all. 

 


End file.
